


What happens in Paris

by Rumoris



Series: The Many Miraculous Cases of Phantom Thief Mysterion [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Flirting, M/M, Paris (City), Phantom Thief AU, Phantom Thief Mysterion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26317072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumoris/pseuds/Rumoris
Summary: After laying low for a month, Mysterion is finally spotted in Paris when he sends out a calling card for a peculiar statue. Despite his stay-at-home attitude Kyle sets out to hunt down the thief on international waters. But how is this connected to the legendary thief, Lady Possum and why is Mysterion in France of all places?
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Kenny McCormick, Kyle Broflovski/Mysterion
Series: The Many Miraculous Cases of Phantom Thief Mysterion [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857523
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	What happens in Paris

Before departing Kyle had many ideas about what Paris would look like and he couldn't really shake off his childish wonder even as he re-read the familiar calling card that was plastered over the screen of his phone and felt irritation bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Mysterion hardly ever left the state let alone the country, but the more he thought about his recent absence the more obvious it became that the thieving bastard was spending his sweet time to set up camp in Europe! 

He could’ve said that this was not his division and let someone else handle it, yet there he was, chasing him down like a madman since the moment Mysterion sent a calling card to a small estate in Paris. He tried to force his attention back to the words plastered over his e-book reader but his mind was already making up plans filled with possibilities of escape and ways to stop Mysterion in every what if scenario. Eventually he just gave up on reading and pushed the small night lamp back to the case of the reader with an annoyed frown. If this goes on for several more hours he will surely go nuts. 

If only he had Wi-Fi or something to communicate with Kenny to pass time…! But this had to wait another eight hours if not more. Hopefully, he will be awake by the time his plane lands and maybe, but just maybe he will finally hear a pleasant voice instead of his coworker bossing him around whenever she had the opportunity. 

“Oh. How unusual. Missing your boyfriend already?” Wendy looked at him with all seriousness, on the screen in front of her the latest thriller blockbuster stood motionless, with two detectives walking through a small Scandinavian village. The woman refused to let Kyle leave the states alone, especially if he is off to chase a phantom thief, so she made last minute arrangements to accompany him.

“He is not my boyfriend,” he growled under his nose, biting back his voice to not wake up the other passengers. 

“He is on the background of your phone,” she corrected him. “Even before we left, you called him to say goodbye and you, Kyle Broflovski sent him a selfie. You never make selfies, let alone sending them to people so don’t try to explain there is nothing going on between you, Detective!”

“That’s none of your business!” he tried to shut her up. “Go back to your shitty movie. I'm dying to see what kind of terrific death scenes popped out of the head of the director."

“Come on. No need to be so crabby about having human emotions,” Wendy pouted as she leant back into her seat and put her earbuds back. For the rest of their trip she kept silent, occasionally switching between movies and various series. 

While Kyle was against any kind of companionship, he was glad that they put Wendy on the case. At least, the woman knew when to stop and left Kyle alone with his thoughts unlike most of his coworkers who always felt the need to butt into his business. 

As he looked out the window he saw the sky slowly becoming brighter as pink slowly seeped into the blue. Wendy eventually fell asleep, her head leaning to her shoulder as the plane’s music selection kept going in loops on the last album she had previously selected. Using the small time without supervision, Kyle slid a small piece of paper from the cover of his eBook reader. The purple printing with its bright green question marks in the corners and the question mark on the back could only belong to one person in this entire universe. He furrowed his brows as he tried to read the calling card in the dim light of the plane’s cabin.

_“In a week, I’ll steal the Crystal Mermaid from the Eiffel Tower museum. It will be gone with the light, leaving behind nothing but shimmering scales._

_Phantom Thief Mysterion”_

It was a riddle, Kyle managed to solve this much at least. However, at first glance the case seemed to be too unfamiliar, almost alien. When he tried to connect it to Mysterion as it seemed to go against his previous modus operandi and had nothing that would connect it to his previous calling cards. It took him several hours and google translated French websites to find out that while the small exhibition on the second level of the tower was indeed advertised as their own standalone event, the artefacts were all part of a private collection. Surprisingly the person behind the exhibition was the owner, not some small museum so at least this would explain a small part of why Mysterion suddenly decided to go after the relics.

So now that he could check out the millionaire from the list, the only thing missing was any kind of connection to Lady Possum, a name that seemed to appear whenever a calling card was issued to the police. How did the Crystal Mermaid connect to the information he’d previously collected? 

Maybe he should ask Kenny about it when they finally arrive at their destination. At least, that would give him a chance to talk with the man. He slid the paper back to its place and opened the book again, hoping that this time he will have better luck at focusing on the words.

***

They landed right after four in the morning, the sun was still nowhere to be seen and Kyle’s breath turned into translucent white puffs as they walked through the outer routes leading back to the buildings. After the regulated air temperature of the plane, the early autumn air left him with the feeling of discomfort that only got worse when he realized that Wendy kept a keen eye on his movements as she dragged him through the airport without leaving him a chance to reach for his phone. It would be a lie to say that he was not getting antsy about the passage of time as Wendy pushed him up to a bus, then forced him to sit down. Gritting his teeth, he kept glancing at the digital hour in front of them, silently taking eight hours away from it. It was still eight in the evening in Colorado, so hopefully, if he calls Kenny after checking in to their hotel, he will be able to ask a thing or two, maybe just talk to a normal human being who is not Wendy.

They drove past the hundred year old buildings until the woman dragged him off the bus and forced him to walk, dragging his small luggage behind him on the empty cobbled road. Maybe Kyle would have enjoyed the trip, maybe he would have looked at the sights with starry eyes, if he didn’t want to find seven answers at the same time and stop a phantom thief. So the moment they arrived at the hotel and got their own separate rooms, Kyle quickly locked his room and reached for his phone. 

The phone gave out a soft beep, then another. 

Kyle was about to give up when someone groaned into the phone. A tired voice demanded explanations for the call.

“Ugh… How can I help you?” 

“Talking to a normal person after almost a day of travelling would suffice,” Kyle found himself answering. In the meantime, he walked around his room, opening and closing the drawers, before his attention was drawn by the small balcony. 

Kenny hummed, “Wow. I feel honoured that you think I am a normal person.” 

It would be a lie to say that Kenny's calm, sleep-foggy voice didn't send the tiniest shiver down his back, but he was also clever enough to remain in complete control of the situation, chasing away his personal thoughts as he sat on the small picnic chair on the balcony. He wished he could send Kenny one of those landscape photos with the tower in the background, but all the landscape he had stopped at the small coffee shop in the corner connected to a bakery with orange sign. The entire street was filled with the sweet scent of bread and sugar, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten anything since the dinner on the plane.

"Soooo. How was the flight of my favourite detective? Did you find a nice place?" Kyle could hear the rustle of fabric probably when Kenny turned in his bed.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked and Kenny answered with a long _yep_. "Isn't it only 9 pm over there?" 

"Sure it is.” Kenny laughed weakly. “But anyone would fall into bed, dead tired if he had to tour around the museum all day with forty kids and no other adults... You still haven’t answered my question, Ky."

Kyle looked at the old lady who kept pulling a flower-patterned shopping trolley, probably on her way to do her morning routine.

“It is _fine.”_

“You see, the reason why it is only fine, because I’m not there,” Kenny laughed.

“I asked you--”

“Hush,” Kenny cut into his sentence. “It was me who couldn’t get a free weekend. But I do wonder, if I were to dress up as Mysterion and parade around South Park, would you rush home? You seem to be awfully fixated on that guy.”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“I’m afraid I’d have to put you behind bars for identity theft,” he stood up to get a better view as the employees manually pulled up the shutters of the store’s windows. “And Mysterion is a criminal. I’ve dealt with him before so my expertise was required. I can’t just rush home.”  
“Suuuure,“ he could feel the sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Alright Ky, what do you want to know? Good date spots in Paris? There is an entire video on how to pick up chicks with zero language skills. Maybe it would work with--” 

“Actually, I’ve been wondering if the Mermaid has anything to do with Lady Possum?”

Kenny’s voice deflated.

“And there I was. Hoping that you will stop my ramblings and ask me about my favourite French snack.”

“Do you have one?”

“No, but quick glance to a travel guide solves everything,” he let out a low groan, probably stretching as the bed creaked beneath his weight. “Alright, give me a moment and I’ll get my Encyclopedia Kenneth.”

“I had no idea that you had one,” Kyle laughed, watching people go in, then leave with a loaf of bread and various baked goods hidden inside paperbags.

“You still have to learn a lot, dear detective.”

***

After a day of running around, trying to counter the heist and set up policemen at several points near the tower, evening finally arrived with its Prussian blue veil slowly enveloping the orange skies. The wind gradually picked up, rustling Kyle’s thin coat as it brought the scent of water from the river next to them. He was expecting a kinder weather in early autumn, so it took him effort to keep his teeth from chattering as he leant against the railing and gazed at the police cars waiting underneath the tower. Whoever thought to put an exhibition here was a madman and for a brief moment Kyle thought he absolutely deserved to have his treasured statue be stolen by a thief. 

Pulling the coat tighter to his shivering body, he glanced at the watch on his wrist. They did their best to find out the exact moment Mysterion would strike, but even Kenny could only confirm what the internet already told him. He could appear anytime until one in the morning, when the lights finally go out.

“Zhat, bastard really did choose a romantic stage for his action,” a raspy voice brought him back from the labyrinth of his thoughts. It was Christophe, a policeman who looked like he was just dragged back from a survival trip with a tactical shovel adding to his outlandish image. “I would be very afraid if I were you.”

“Why should I be afraid?” he turned around just in time to see the man light a cigarette. 

“The most scenic spot in Paris, at night? Only to steal zhe statue of a mermaid? Oh, please.”

“I wouldn’t really see anything behind his actions. And it’s no ordinary mermaid,” Kyle countered surprisingly calmly, before he brought out the details Kenny had dug up from the deepest part of the internet. “The statue was created by Robert Scherhaufer in the eighteenth century then before his death he gifted it to a friend who put it up on display in the town’s museum. It was stolen after the second world war.”

He walked closer to the small statue in question. Surveying the loving details and the way the woman’s dress folded in the shape of a fish tail as she stared into the distance while heavy waves crashed against her rock.

“Ah, so you know the textbook version of zhe story,” the man nodded as a puff of smoke left his lips. “Scherhaufer was a German artist who drowned a woman after he realized she is already seeing someone and she said no to his advances. Typical murder case, except it led to the creation of the statue you see there. Before his death, he indeed gave it away just like in your version. His corpse was later found in his own bathtub. Cause of death? Drowning. The next owner was the Belgian, just like you have said with a museum. His son drowned when he went swimming to the quarry pond near their house... ” 

“If you want to tell me that the statue is cursed, then you should stop there,” Kyle warned him, refusing to accept information from a person like Christophe.

“Look, man, I don’t believe in curses either, but we have around nine drowned corpses and the only common point is this statue. If it’s not a curse, then we have an immortal psychopath at our hands. Not sure which is better. If ya ask me, curses are better, they can be broken.”

“And immortals can be put behind bars.”

Christophe snorted at the response, a puff of smoke surrounding him as he lifted the cigarette to his lips.

“It’s just like in that Heine poem, awfully fitting for a statue under the same name.”

“What poem?” Kyle raised a brow. He had to admit, there seemed to be some kind of logic behind the stories and while Kenny often seemed like an infinite source of history related knowledge, the mermaid seemed to be out of his league too.

“ _The air is cool and night is coming. The calm Rhine courses its way. The peak of the mountain dazzles with evening's final ray._ ” Christophe recited the poem, smoke following the way his words were formed. “Or somezhing like that. I can’t remember much from the middle, but you see, the ending always gets me. Zhere is just something about the way he uses the words, you see? And I’m not a bookworm or anything, zhat title goes to my flatmate.”

Yet there he was, talking about poems, Kyle rolled his eyes flinching when a gust of wind wedges its way under his coat. 

“It fits tonight,” he noted, but didn’t think Mysterion would know about the poem or make his plan around it. In Kyle’s mind the last sentence of the announcement echoed. With the last light… And evening’s final ray.

While he was sure that the card referenced one in the morning, the hour when the light show at the tower stops, Christophe version had shown some connection to it if he exchanged Rhine with the Seine. He wanted to stay stubborn and clutch his truth with force, but when it came to Mysterion he wanted to get ready for every possibility even if it seemed to be nonsensical. 

“Do you happen to know the rest of the poem?” 

“Whoa! Never zhought the inspector would be interested in literature,” the man chuckled. 

“In crime prevention, it’s better to take every possibility into account,” Kyle explained in a professional tone. “Many criminals copy events from books and movies and we can’t rule out the fact that Mysterion was led to the statue by a poem. It would be irresponsible.”

“Alright, Mr. Perfection, give me a moment and I’ll try to remember the rest of the poem,” Christophe gave him a knowing smile, as he rubbed the burnt butt on the top frame of a trashcan, dropping the rest into a metallic can filled water.

**Author's Note:**

> Originaly I started writing this thing for K2 Week, hence the art for travel, however, the story kept getting longer and longer until I decided it needs more time. :'D One does wonder if Mysterion is indeed in Paris, how happy Kenny might have been when Kyle called him at dawn only to ask him about statues. 
> 
> The poem mentioned in the story is Loreley by Heinrich Heine and the song Kenny was thinking of was the legendary "Foux du Fa Fa" by Flight of the Conchords.


End file.
